


One Word

by superfandomqueen



Series: Portfolio [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Words, Fluff, M/M, Pining, no beta we die like women, they are in love, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 20:54:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18698959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superfandomqueen/pseuds/superfandomqueen
Summary: Yurio never believed in soulmates like others did. Soulmates, people who were supposed to know them better than they know themselves. Each and every person had words on their wrist, what they would hear from your destined one.





	One Word

**Author's Note:**

  * For [giucorreias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/giucorreias/gifts).



> For Gui, sorry this took so long for me to write and post. I hope you enjoy it!!

 

Yurio never believed in soulmates like others did. Soulmates, people who were supposed to know them better than they know themselves. Each and every person had words on their wrist, what they would hear from your destined one.

Yurio thought it was a load of shit. He didn’t particularly care if he ever met his soulmate. There were bigger and more important things to focus on. Like his figure skating.

Of course there was the annoying few words – that he swore he didn’t care that much about, what he’s a skeptic, not all soulmates worked out – on his wrist since the day he was born. Well, both of them were on his wrists. His grandfather said he always had it on his wrist, since birth. Which would mean his soulmate was older then him. (The right wrist was platonic soulmate and the left was romantic, at least that’s what the theory was.)

It became a sort of comfort for Yurio, to unconsciously brush over the words, either wrist. It was a habit of his, whenever he was training and took a small break. A quick brush over the words, to steady himself before he competed. Another when he felt particularly distressed.

Something a lot of people never understood, soulmates weren’t an automatic perfect fit. The words introduced them, but they had to build the relationship from there. Platonic or romantic, it was up to the people to build and keep the relationship, just like anyone else. All the words were directions, an understanding that the two could work great together, as friends or lovers.

Yurio chose to focus on his skating then searching for his soulmate, something many people did backwards. They would focus on finding the person that matches them then living their lives. Some never met their soulmate, or knew them for long before they passed away.

The Russian didn’t expect to meet his left wrist soulmate in a banquet. Nor that he would end up in a dance off. He didn’t realize what had happened until he looked at his wrist (rigorously kept under a bracelet away from his fans’ prying eyes) and found that the words had changed color. From a dull gray color to a beautiful dark amber color. It was full of soft yet warm feeling. 

The young boy brushed over the words, finding odd warmth to it. He never heard of the words becoming warm to the touch before. There was no more time to ponder it when his coach called.

Visiting Japan clarified that the skater that bombed during the competition (the one that Victor was making eyes at) was the one that said his words. Yurio couldn’t deny that much, he wasn’t stupid enough not to notice the change. In him or in Victor.

He had a sneaking suspicion that Yuuri (the same Goddamn name for fuck’s sake!!) Katsuki hadn’t only said his name, but Victor’s as well. One good thing of going back to Russia was Yurio didn’t have to deal with Victor’s pining and trying to woo Katsudon. (He argued with himself, it sounded too much like a compliment.)

Coming face to face with someone not quite unfamiliar, but handsome enough to gain Yurio’s attention. The undercut was nice.

It was even better when he saved Yurio from his (loved, but rapid/crazy) fans. The other boy’s words singing warmth through the moody and dramatic Russian. Yurio couldn’t believe he was willing to ride a motorcycle with a stranger to get away.

Otabek Atlin was his name.

Yurio couldn’t deny that liked him.

He couldn’t deny he winced when he read the words stark on Otabek’s skin. Get out of my way. Harsher and colder than his Are you coming or not?. (The words turned a sweet baby blue.)

The figure skater couldn’t help but respect Otabek. Listening to his story, why he wanted to talk with Yurio (that surprising didn’t have to do with their words), and with them having each other’s words get to know each other. 

Falling for Otabek happened too fast for Yurio’s liking, but it happened none the less. The worst part…they had become friends, such good friends, and had talked about soulmates – agreeing with each other’s opinions of soulmates. Yurio was, not that he’d admit, terrified of confessing. Because soulmate or not, Yurio appreciated their friendship.

How he ended up in his platonic soulmate’s apartment, Yurio wasn’t sure. How the normally anxious (but has more confidence than he used to) man managed to be so Goddamn calm, Yurio didn’t fucking know!

“I know, I know,” Yuuri assured calmly. Yurio still nursing a cooling cup of tea (from Yuuri) across from the older man. Victor had been sent out (per Yurio’s request) after Yurio called Yuuri up in a frenzy. The sudden realization that he was in Love, capital L, had Yurio freaking a little bit. “I still can’t remember the entire night, let alone actually saying my words to Victor. Or you, for that matter.”

(Yurio had freaked out even more when the blue turned into a warm brown that he had yet to find the exact shade, but he was betting it was Otabek’s eye color. Not that he damn near knows the exact shade of Otabek’s eyes, or anything.)

“How do I tell him?” Yurio asked, gesturing with his hands. “I know that much, but I need to tell him! I can’t keep it from him!”

“Thank God you have some sense,” Yuuri said, chuckling. “How do you think you should tell him?”

“Oh MY GOD! What are you a fucking fae?!! A straight answer for fuck’s sake, not a fucking walk around riddle!” Yurio set his cup down just to gesture wildly with two hands. The younger man glared at the quirk in Yuuri’s lip. “I am having a CRISIS!”

“That much is obvious.”

“Stop being so fucking amused,” Yurio huffed, leaning back into the couch.

“Just be yourself and tell him. Be forward about it. Even if he doesn’t have those kind of feelings for you, he will still be your friend. If I know Otabek, it won’t change how he looks at you,  _ if _ the feelings aren’t mutual.”

Yurio nodded, swallowing.  _ He could be straight forward. _

~~

 

The first attempt ended badly.

Yurio had approached Otabek, it was the worst possible time to do it really, when he was stretching. After staring at his ass for...far too long. Yurio stumbled over his words as Otabek addressed him, with a small smile ghosting his lips.

“Hello Yura.” The combination of Otabek’s smile and softest in his voice nearly had his knees buckling.

A full-force blush staining his pale cheeks, Yurio stuttered out, “H-hello, Ota! Would you like to warm-up to-together?”

Otabek nodded. “I would  _ love _ that.”

Yurio silently died behind the other, just barely keeping himself from melting to the floor. He was deadass doomed.

~~

 

Yurio  _ tried _ to be obvious about it, leaning more into Otabek’s casual touches and being closer to him. He even tried to flirt! (And failed in the end, Otabek laughed it off as a joke. Yurio was tempted to commit murder.) He invited Otabek out to coffee, in a date-like way. Got him to go shopping with him. Sleepovers at either of their places. Buying gifts and giving said gifts to Otabek, Yurio thought they were nice (cute) gifts and that Otabek would like them. There were even flowers! (The flowers didn’t go over well, Yurio found out that Otabek was allergic to daisies.)

Right now, Yurio was pretty sure he just wanted to die. It would be unfortunate for Otabek, but Yurio would die happily when resting his face on his soulmate’s pecs. He had done it when exasperated and being his usual dramatic self. Now, he just didn’t want to move.

“Enjoying yourself, Yura?” Otabek chuckled. (Beautiful sound, 10/10 would recommend, make it into a ring tone.)

“You are a fucking idiot,” Yurio stated, muffled by Otabek’s clothing. It came out more as a ‘You a fuckin’ idiot’, the point was made though.

“Oh? How come?”

“I’m in love with you.”

“I love you too.”

Yurio pulled back, furious. Because he just  _ wasn’t getting it _ ! Yurio balanced on his palms on the bed, leaning over top Otabek. Internally, Yurio decided to fuck it. Subtle doesn’t work with this bonehead!

“No! You  _ don’t _ get it! I am. In. Love. With. You. I want to wake up every and see you! Share the same bed! Do dumb shit together! Go on dates! Be as disgustingly cute as Katsudon and Victor! I’m head over heels for you! I--” Yurio groaned, flapping one arm and still keeping himself up. For  _ fuck’s _ sake, why couldn’t words fucking work with him for once. “I like you. I like your little ticks, how you’ll spin your glass or mug or whatever when you’re talking! How you run your hand through your hair! I like your messy hair! I like the shine in your eyes when you get excited! The little genuine smiles you get! The way it’s so easy to be myself around you! The lack of expectations! You never are bothered by my loudness or my want to go out and about! Or how I can be a bratty! The way you run your fingers over something! The stupid way you text that is way too endearing! Your terrible taste in movies!”

Yurio grasped at the little details he noticed. The way Otabek would brush hair away, rubbing his face with a hand, the little smirk he got when he was being smug, the energy and love he put into his skating, the--

Yurio could write an essay about Otabek, as terribly embarrassing as that was. An entire paragraph on his eyelashes and eyes. A page  _ just _ on his smile.

The soft smile that Yurio saw near constant graced Otabek’s lips. (Okay, maybe he was starting to stare at them. He  _ really _ wanted to know how they felt.)

Otabek reached up, brushing his fingertips over Yurio’s cheek, his jaw, as if he wasn’t sure where to place it. Finally (or was it unfortunate) settling on cupping Yurio’s cheek. The older boy’s thumb brushed over Yurio’s lip, dragging it over a bit.

Yurio could barely hear Otabek over the roaring in his ears.

“I love you, too, Yura. I’m in love with you. I want to wake up beside you, do everything you described. I’m glad I met you, you’re amazing and full of life.”

The warmth in Otabek’s eyes was almost too much.

“Can I kiss you?” Yurio blurted out, glancing between Otabek’s chestnut eyes and lips. A tight knot was wound in his chest.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Otabek purred, leaning upwards. Yurio’s eyes fluttered shut at the first brush of their lips.

It was soft and gentle, setting a tingling feeling throughout. Otabek laced his fingers through his blonde hair, twisting and tugging gently. Yurio didn’t want to pull away, oxygen being unfortunately necessary.

The second kiss had no less passionate feelings, but it was harder. It felt as if Otabek couldn’t get enough of him, Yurio pressed back just as hard and fully.

Yurio wanted never to move, not to break the moment. But duty calls.

That duty being to flip off Victor for interrupting them,

“Oh good! You’ve finally gotten together, I take it!” Victor said cheerily from Yurio’s bedroom door. Victor wiped away an imaginary tear. “They grow up so fast!”

Yurio glared at the older man, flipping him off slowly. He could hear Yuuri’s chuckle.

“Victor, come on, leave them alone,” Yuuri called from another part of the apartment. “Yurio, don’t do anything  _ I wouldn’t do _ !”

“That gives me plenty to work with, you drunk pole dancing fiend!”

There was laughter.

Yurio groaned, pressing his face into Otabek’s chest again. Otabek stroked his hair lightly, a chuckle rumbling in his chest.

“When will dinner be ready?”

Yurio blinked at him, estimating the length of time. “At least a half hour, why?”

Otabek’s eyes darkened, lifting up Yurio’s chin with his hand. Yurio picked up on his meaning. Pulling himself up to kiss the daylights out of Otabek.


End file.
